Tryst of Fate
by Weavillain
Summary: Lori didn't know how things became this way, but all she cares about doing is setting the record straight with the girl of her dreams. (Lori x Carol) [Rated M for safety]


**A/N:** I'm going to need to go to one of those confessional booths for writing this and I'm not even Catholic. You'll see what I mean once you start getting to the meat of this story.

 **Update:** I've decided to advertise this as an "M" rated story. Keep in mind that the rating system makes a clear difference between "M" and "MA". Therefore, let me point out to you that this is NOT, I repeat, NOT smut. It will feature content that's too racy for a "T" rating but not too much to the point where it's worthy of an "MA" label.

* * *

There it was: Room 216. Lori never gave the classroom much importance before but after what she had orchestrated earlier in the school day, it's far more significant than she cares to let anyone else know about.

She can't stress to herself enough how crucial it is that no one, especially Bobby, finds out about this.

Before she can open the door to her destiny, she quickly scans the empty hallway on both sides of her. Then again. And again. And once more for good measure because why not? It may have been a few hours since school ended, and it was most likely that she wouldn't be caught with only a measly fraction of the student body buzzing around, but as the old saying goes, better to be safe than sorry and if there's one thing that Lori doesn't want, it's to be sorry about the girl that she knows is waiting for her on the other side.

She swallows as her sweaty hand nervously curls around the cool steel of the doorknob and she realizes that once she opens this door, there's no turning back. Not out of some shallow, pretentious virtue of denying herself but because it was apparent to her that when she set up this after school arrangement with _her_ , that she knew _exactly_ what she had in mind. Her victoriously smug smirk danced its way into her focus again and before Lori could realize it, she imagined what she wanted to do those lips, those infuriatingly sexy, smooth lips, and how grateful she'd be if by the end of this meeting, she'd get away with much more than _kissing_ them.

Deciding not to stall any further, Lori tries to compose herself and assume an air of authority. After all, _she_ was the one that was pulling the strings. _She_ was in control. She…she…she had better open the door before that smirk returns to mind and she questions just how little of a role Carol Pingrey had in all of this.

Slowly, the door creaks open and Lori winces as the sound carries down the hallway. She looks back to make sure that no one heard her and when she finds no other signs of life springing out of thin air to call her out on her treachery, she saunters slowly backwards into the room.

So far, so good. Now, all that's left to do is-

"Ah, there you are, Lori."

Her stomach launches into the stratosphere at the sound of that lulling purr that makes her insides tingle. Damn her. Damn her for making her feel this way and damn her for getting her kicks out of this. _She_ was supposed to call the shots!

"Impeccable timing as always."

The teasing comment does nothing to make Lori feel like she's at ease. Surmising that she was in on her intentions through her smirk was one thing but _hearing_ the knowing tone of her voice was enough to make Lori squirm. But now that she was in the lion's den, so to speak, the only thing left to do was face the music.

She closes the door and with timidity, turns around.

There she was, sitting on a desk closest to the window with her cocky smirk plastered, bewitching eyes enticingly heating her skin from afar, arms crossed below her chest and that she totally _wasn't_ ogling at…it was the personification of someone who was lying in wait, looking to spring their trap and go in for the kill and Lori knows that if it's Carol that takes the first step in their sinful waltz, she'd be putty in her hands without any hope of taking control.

Damn that Carol.

"Then again, you seemed pretty eager to talk to me about something so I guess this must be a…"

She slowly slides off the desk and Lori's eyes intuitively skim north of her neck to settle on her bedroom eyes and the blue eyeshadow that extenuates her beauty.

"…special occasion? Am I wrong?"

Lori looks to speak, looks to put her foot down and establish exactly what she wants from here on out but her throat dries up and the shriveling remnants of her assertive intentions follow suit. Her face smolders and burns with how Carol seemed to realize _that_ as well, if that little glint of triumph in her eye wasn't any indication.

She's apparently satisfied with her submissiveness and wants to move things forward.

"While you prepare yourself, why don't you have a seat?"

Lori follows where Carol points and finds an empty chair that's slid underneath a nearby desk. She relents for a second for following her lead but finds the instant gratification of her future actions worth it. She slides the chair back, turns it around to face Carol, and plops down into it.

She tries her best to furrow her eyebrows and frown in a hardened, determined glower and succeeds in the façade for about half a second…

Until Carol slowly walks over to her, her hips sashaying slightly. Lori trembles and her breathing intensifies in spasms as the slight flare of skirt and the hypnotic swing of her hips renders her lightheaded. Her ears are bombarded with the sound of her booming heartbeat, along with the clacks of Carol's shoes against the floor that pick up in volume as she slithers ever closer to her.

Finally, she's right in front of her and try as she might, Lori is powerless to do anything but leer at those legs, those legs that she's sure that half the boys, teachers included, have fantasized about at least ten times a semester. Lord knows that _she_ has.

She watches as an impossibly supple, smooth leg slowly lifts off the ground, aiming to rest on the other side of her hips. Her heart thunders in anticipation as she watches her skirt hike up her thigh a bit from the ascent. Her eyes strain through the darkness of the void of her upskirt and she lets out an airy moan when her newfound discovery dominates her thoughts: _electric blue lacy panties_.

Lori doesn't have much time to dwell on it, though, because before she knows it, Carol is straddling her and weaving her long, manicured fingers through her hair and tracing her nails over her scalp in small circles. Lori's soft coo makes the temptress chuckle.

"Well, Lori, I'm all ears. What record did you want set straight again?"

The question, more than anything that she's doing right now, puts her on the spot. What _did_ she want?

She wanted closure on the sinful thoughts she's harbored for her rival for the past few months.

She wanted her to know that she wouldn't have any power over her any longer and if they were going to be in the dark with an illicit relationship, she'd be the one taking her by the hand and leading.

But more than anything, she wanted to placate her fantasies by filling her ears with the sounds of pleasure that _she'd_ be able to draw out of _her_ , consequences be damned.

With rekindled determination, Lori's limp arms found strength and for the first time, Carol is taken aback as Lori's hands cup her face and pull her forward roughly for a kiss. Her eyes flutter close as her tongue quickly worms its way into Carol's moaning mouth. Her fast, desperate pace leaves no room for second guessing and it's just fine with her; living in the moment was what she wanted with this little meeting, after all.

She melts into a puddle when Carol's hands leave her hair and gently cup her breasts through the fabric of her shirt. Her moan reverberates through their contact and Carol reciprocates with one of her own. The fondling engulfs her loins in a passion that makes goosebumps break out on her skin. But she soon finds that her burning lungs, that ache for air, take precedence over everything else and she regretfully pulls away, their lips making a tiny smacking sound in the process.

Lori doesn't have much time to recuperate because no sooner does she take a few breathes, Carol's hands leave her chest to tilt her head to the side. Before Lori can question her actions, Carol's mouth zeroes in on the exposed column of the side of her neck and she gasps sharply. Her teeth graze her neck as they slowly trail over her jugular. She stops to lightly pinch a patch of skin between her teeth and plucks it gently.

She repeats the motion on her earlobe and Lori lets out another whiny gasp, coaxing her to wrap her arms around her waist and pull her closer. Carol takes the silent hint and takes that earlobe in her teeth again and instead of plucking it in a quick release, she tugs on it a bit, rolling the flesh around tenderly.

Despite herself, Lori doesn't want it being said that she couldn't turn Carol in jelly and knows exactly how she's going to do it. She lightly pulls her earlobe out of Carol's mouth before she can play with it any further, prompting Carol to look at her in confusion. Lori just smirks and slides her hands smoothly down her back. She relishes in her success as Carol's face twitches in desire as the heel of her palms grind into her muscles on the way down.

Her descent ends when her hands encase her ass and it takes Lori every ounce of willpower not to let her self-control completely crumble as she deftly digs her fingers into her glutes with a series of squeezes; some fleeting and light, some heavy and tight.

She carries out the next step of her plan and ignores Carol's griping groan when she removes her hands from her butt. She looks up at her flushed, somewhat peeved face and grins naughtily as her hands plant on her knees and slowly inch forward. She almost snickers when Carol's eyes widen and a blissful smile etches on her face from the contact.

Not taking her eyes off of her all the while, Lori's palms and fingers trace up her smooth, nearly hairless legs and she can't help but help herself to a few kneads that make Carol moan. Her skirt pushes up as her hands press onwards until her fingers are just short of the edge of her panties. Her thumbs stroked her inner thighs in one fluid motion, eliciting a shuddering squeak from her ex-rival that sends pride singing in Lori's veins.

Lori willed her resolve to take the next bold step forward; the table was now set and it was time for her to _literally_ dig in with wild abandon. She nearly drooled from the anticipated taste.

Lori's stroking thumbs slide forward and hook into her underwear. Without a moment's hesitation, she tugs down and cheers inwardly when Carol lifts herself up a bit to allow her panties to slide down until they fall down at her ankles.

With nothing else left to do but examine her "meal", Lori swiftly grabs the hem of her skirt and flings it up.

* * *

Lori awakens with a gasp as she jackknifes up from under her covers, her heaving chest and sweaty skin laboring her efforts of calming down.

She eventually succeeds and rubs at her bleary eyes with the back of her hand. Her ears pick up on the sound of light snoring and she doesn't need to turn her head towards the source to know that Leni is sleeping by her side, unaware of what she had just went through.

After a few seconds, she recalled her awfully tangible dream…

' _Nightmare. Totally a nightmare,'_ Lori quickly corrects herself.

And refused to give any meaning to it other than a random sensation that meant absolutely nothing about how she really felt about Carol Pingrey, usurper of Homecoming Queen crowns. With that, she was quick to commit to doing the one thing she always did when she had a wild, wacky dre… _nightmare_ : call Bobby and chat the night away about it.

But just before her hands could reach under her pillow and procure her phone, Lori stopped herself dead in her tracks.

' _On second thought, I think it'd be better if I don't talk to him right now. Or tomorrow. Or hell, maybe not until after a few rounds of intense therapy.'_

…

…

…

' _Okay, scratch that,_ _several_ _rounds of intense therapy.'_

* * *

 **A/N:** Ha! Fooled ya! Oh, come on, don't look at me like that! More than half of my pen name has "villain" in it. What did you expect? Besides, it's not like I wasn't being honest. Carol truly was the "girl of her dreams", after all.

By the way, in case you're wondering, tricking you isn't why I need that confessional booth. I have no regrets about that. :P

Oh, and don't try to pretend that you weren't tricked. You know you were. ;)


End file.
